Early today I read the spoilers for one of the manhwas I was reading- The Way To Protect The Female Lead’s Older Brother. It had such a great start and I loved the premise. Then I read the spoilers and I become the classic me of ‘whyyyyyy‘. The sad part was that I really needed something amazing to keep me happy. It’s one of my ways I fight my depression. But seeing in my mind ruined awesomeness the wall that holds back the floodgates shakes.
Then I saw the newest episode of WandaVision. It was the first Marvel Tv show I was actually enjoying. It’s not like I was expecting much from the next episode but this time my expectations were destroyed in a good way. It was amazing! The entire series has been great. Whoever has shit to say about the ‘slow-burn’ is nothing but an asshole. Truly, I the notorious DC is better advocate is declaring that Marvel won this round. Everything from the sitcom reaction of grief from Wanda and the potential of Vision returning to the main MCU.
BUT EVEN BETTER THAN THAT… BILLY & TOMMY HAVE ARRIVED.
In case, you don’t know they are actually really amazing young heroes in the Marvel comics. Billy, codename Wiccan, is a gay icon whose powers may be stronger than his own mother. Tommy, codename Speed, is fast like his Uncle Pietro.
The four characters are some of my favorite heroes in the comics and seeing their successful introduction and potential within the MCU is fluttering my little black heart. The idea of a Young Avengers is exciting, even more so if we get a Kid Loki. It is like a substance stronger than cement at binding my wall back together.
My coping method is working again~
I got some inspiration back and I feel like I can do my thang. My writing thang. That one thang people say is still my talent. That one thang people say has stayed with me through everything.
Needless to say, I am very glad for WandaVision. I may even finally remember that there are things I am good at and can do.
This is the first D&D Wednesday update since the announcement of our campaign day change! Well, there’s even more news: The current campaign was put on hold for world building.
Woops. Looks like the whole campaign quotes and stories will have to wait for a bit. Don’t worry though. We are planning a large amount of one shots and similar role playing games to take over our session until the world building is done. Plus, a new character will be joining the campaign and the decided time skip boosts us straight to level 8.
I will now have the ability to cast Giant Insect on a lot more insects! Since it is no longer just my Giant Wolf Spider Companion Muk & Giant Scorpion Companion Stabby McStab Stab! Bring on the rise of the Insect Queen!
Tomorrow, we will be playing The Heist. I have never played it before but it seems interesting. None of us have decided who we will be playing but even though it’s normally not the sort of character I’d play I’m thinking of playing The Widower. It sounds cool, right!
As for today, I thought I’d shout out one of my old characters Zale:
I was playing a one shot with a really experienced DM that encouraged us all to try something new. Now, we were banned from using flight in the campaign but we were given the chance to try characters that would normally be able to use flight!
It’s me. I know I’ve been making a lot of statements and promises since the beginning of this year and haven’t really been following through with them. In fact, I’ve seemingly half-assed works and developing friendships. I’m going to do my best to explain and have it somewhat understandable.
Some of you have had the opportunity to be aware of some of things that are going on with me. Recently, I’ve had to make the decision to take down a lot of what I had posted and change my decisions of what I will post. A lot of this has to do with what I want for the future and how it all has been affecting those around me and changes on what effects I’m okay with. This may be one of the few posts going forward where I am so open about these things so I will try to make it worth it.
Before I went to university I was a pretty healthy person. I mean, I had my problems like everyone and knew I was someone who would have to work hard with my weight my entire life. That was why I ran, did martial arts, yoga and tried my best to remain physical.
Things started to change in my first year of university. At first, I gained the stereotypical freshman 10 pounds from change of lifestyle and being on your own. I did my best to not let that affect me and try to continue working hard.
Soon I started to feel sluggish and tired. It was harder to do things and my head would hurt more often. I attributed it to drinking way too much coffee and going out and trying to have a night life.
By the end of my freshman year I started to notice something really was happening. Everything was 10x harder to do and required more effort. It made me tired and weary. My head felt cloudy and dizzy. I often fell asleep or found my body severely hurting. The worst was my back and joints.
I tried to explain all of this to my family and doctors and at first they pretty much came up with a lot of excuses that implied it was all me. But there is something about a person just knowing that there is something wrong and it is everyone else around you that is saying utter bullshit.
It took two really bumpy years of resulting life problems and a surge of sucky progression for people to start believing me. The problem was by the time they did my entire life had changed. I was now a completely different person. I was someone sick. Leaving my bed physically was hard and painful. My head felt like it was going to split open and reading paragraphs felt like a foreign language. Forget being able to sleep or go through a day without wondering why my body was trying to kill me. Everything was pain and struggle.
A whole another year went by full of tests and random medication and speculation that just prolonged the confusion and suffering. So many people I knew that I was lying, exaggerating or causing all of it since no easy answers were given. By the end of it, the doctors just laughed and smiled happily. I was lucky and should be relieved that it wasn’t Cancer or anything exotic sounding. It was simply other ‘easier’ things.
I was 23 years old and my body was simply acting as if I was at retirement age. First, they told me I had Ankylosing Spondylitis. Something I couldn’t even spell if I didn’t have to. Apparently, back stiffness and pain wasn’t from scoliosis and bad posture. My immune system was causing issues with my back and joints. I had disks out of place, disks fading away, disks fusing and inflammation wherever my body seemed to be able to cause it. It was such an easy and simple thing to everyone. Then I had Arthritis. It was basically, in their own words similar and a common result of having the first thing. It was meant to explain why I have even more inflammation problems in my joints and when my body tries to heal from something. Lastly, they were ecstatic to tell me that everything else was the result of Fibro Myalgia so I should be relieved. My body was simply processing pain more intensely than the average person. Great, right?
Everyone expected me to bounce back immediately to the person I was and be amazing again. I spent another two years going through different treatment options, meds, physical therapies and professional opinions on how to handle it. Also, a shit ton of judgement. All that weight I gained from being stuck in bed for two years? Why couldn’t I immediately work to get rid of it? I wasn’t missing a limb or dying. And so many people who are go out there and do amazing things. Who was I to be such a failure? My pain was simple and easy. By my name I was expected to always be a fighter.
The thing is I am still working on it. I’m working on the crazy flare ups with no schedule, the ever changing symptoms, the emotional toll, the sleepless nights, the loss of self, the joints that pop out of place, the inflammation that can cause me to look like a hunchback, the use of cane some days, the weight that brings judgement, and the attention I’m expected to pay to myself. Boy, I am really really really trying to work on it.
And sometimes, I am not the best at it. It affects me and what I do. I hate that. I wish that wasn’t true. But it is true and I have to always think of ways to be content with that and try to live a happy life.
I think even before my physical health issues I’ve been open and weird about my mental health issues. I don’t keep a diary (hate it) and I go back and forth with therapists that my writing has always kept a part of myself and where I’m at at the time.
Growing up, I dealt with a lot of expectations. My grandfather ended up with all girls and all of us with our own problems. He himself had dreams he wanted to fulfill but didn’t. So all those hopes and wishes everyone had all felt to me. I was raised to think that was right and fight to make sure I fulfill them. That puts a lot of stress and pressure on a child even when they aren’t realizing that is what it is. Even worse, I never knew how to talk to them or other people about things that weren’t about the expectations. My natural introvertedness and social anxieties just got worse. I never knew who I was or what I wanted.
Then came bullying. It seperated me into two halves. The one who was always on in public and the one who waited alone in the shadows. That does work for awhile. The split functions with one stable and holding you together. The thing is that all it takes is one thing to bring it down completely.
For me, it was middle school. By the time I entered it that shadow part of me hated myself. It knew I was a failure and that I was doing only enough to get by in fulfilling my expectations. It mocked me and reminded me that there was no one I had a real connection with. I became someone who pitied themselves and that was what brought me down- that pity.
I accepted a lot for the idea of creating the image around me. What ever it took to seem like I was fulfilling some of those expectations. Whether it was complete or off or not. Some of it was being done right. The problem is when you make the chose to allow pity into your life the price for things becomes even more expensive.
I won’t go into detail about these things but I’ll say this: during puberty I dealt with massive family issues, bullying, rape, molestation and the complete denial of the idea of being my own person. I thought I was a tool for others.
That lead me into forming a lot of unhealthy relationships and making a lot of poor decisions for myself. That shadowy part of me was pushed aside even more. When any sense of a connection occurred I poured too much into it. I entered an extremely unhealthy relationship and allowed that to be the new thing that defined me. I had at this point completely accepted I was whatever those around me saw me as.
This didn’t change much in high school. The only thing I learned by the end of it was that I really never learned much about social relations and making decisions at all.
So, I thought entering University would be that fresh start with the new knowledge I had learned and the new opportunities that would present themselves. Yea, I was still pretty naieve and thought those problems I pushed down would stay down.
They didn’t. I broke. I had to face things I didn’t want to face and face even knew things. New lessons had be learned and boy oh boy did I struggle with them. There was no idea on how to balance them all with this new environment and this possible new me.
But eventually, everything around me was exploding and so I sat down to try to. It didn’t go so well at first and even now it is rocky at times. I’m Bi-Polar. It runs in the family. I have Depression and Anxiety. That also runs in my bat shit insane family. I have ADHD. Welp.
I can’t run away and live in my feelings when it comes to this. It’s always on my mind that even if I want to live in the feelings and writings that can be born from not dealing with it I can’t. Life is going on around me and I have to participate in it. So, I take my meds every day and always try to put that first on my list of responsibilities. Still, I can’t stop that there will be days that I will feel extremely down or days that I have a panic attack at the idea of something stupid.
What I can do is be responsible for knowing that I don’t have to be low enough again where I think of suicide or high enough that I am super productive for three weeks in a row at the cost of sleep.
It’s always going to be my bumpy ride
Growing up, I never had a problem in school. I was either great at something or if I spent some time on it could be better than average. It is something I began to define myself as. I was the smart one just like my grandfather. If I put my mind to it I could do anything I wanted. And yea, through high school I could certainly get by with being like that.
However, university is a whole different ball game. Especially, when you choose an elitist school in a foreign country that has a different system with different expectations. My first year, I had to realize I was not a special unicorn. I mean… I still was a unicorn just not a super special one or anything.
And that was fine… I like to be challenged and I wanted to prove myself. The problem was I wasn’t an adult ready to be independent. The school I attended expects a person to become independent.
Well, life hit me with a lot of challenges and I took them hard. School wasn’t the same for me and it fell way down on my list of things I need to handle. It came up only when feelings of failure and disappointment did. Or when I got angry and frustrated. When I wanted to lash out at the crappy things people did around me.
Now, I’ve been in University for six years and I haven’t finished my four year degree. Now, it isn’t completely me. There is medical leave and school class limit restrictions in there but still it’s on me.
All those feelings about it are really consuming. It’s not just the past me who expected to get through this successfully but the current me. I should be able to finish this at least and succeed in it in some way.
I am frustrated that there are restrictions on me causing this to be even longer and that there is a part of me that believes some of them are right.
All I know is that I have to figure out a way to finish my four years. That is a part of the old me that has remained and reminded me of what I always thought was me.
My family since I’ve been born has always been middle class or above. One side worked hard for it and the other was born into it. I was really naive and privileged with it. Private education, fancy clothes, fancy meals, and all the activities I could want were normal.
When the first depression hit from housing my side of the family took it hard and they never really fully recovered. For them it was a reminder of how they worked so hard in the first place to get there and all the feelings from losing that consumed parts of them. They acted like the things they did to get to middle class wasn’t worth the same anymore. They also realized that the spoiling they did for us may have not the been the best thing for us an individuals.
Over the years, that realization has become a crippling addition to their personalities. They have become overly difficult and hard as if to make up for everything they did in the past. The problem was they never accurately prepared their children for it.
In some sense, my age was beneficial that way. I’ve had the time and chances to start to learn as I’ve gotten older and realize the worth of money. That’s definitely a big bonus.
The problem is I don’t have the time, resources or ability to rapidly change and become independent. Let alone, help my family and their financial difficulties.
Recently, my mother’s hours have been cut to the point where staying in her house is truly a questionable choice. It could be done if my mom changed her life style but even with the changes she made she is used to a life style that can’t be afford. Much of which still requires money to be maintained whether you want to or not.
I can’t get mad at her for that because it’s always been her life, she doesn’t have the tools she should have by now and I myself fall victim to the same problem.
The issue is now I’m expected to do more than just help and I have no idea how I’m supposed to really do that. Besides, the new idea of trying to balance a full time job Monday through Friday and a part time job Saturday and Sunday. While, also trying to get online classes during this crisis and be able to do them with that work schedule.
Maybe then I can get enough money to cover my family and the mess they have dug themselves in.
Also, I need to pay for my university semester no matter what and float my credit card as a new card to use.
I’m really panicking here. It’s hard for me to do most jobs with my health issues. They are too hard on my body right now.
I’m really struggling with this emotionally and physically.
Over the years I’ve gone through a pretty big self discovery process. I’ve learned that a lot of the things I thought I wanted I didn’t really want. They were either expected of me or things I wanted because I liked the idea of them or even liked part of them.
Instead, I realized what the things I like or could want. I started to take a look at my hobbies and passions. Were there things I could make money off of? Make a life out of? Enjoying doing for a long time? There were… And all of them had different ways of going about them.
I thought here would be where I could still have that ambitious part of me fulfilled so I jumped in. I was only half prepared for it. So there’s been a few years of trial and error and mistakes and stuff. Can’t deny that.
I can say I’m trying to fix that. Do research first and set schedules I can keep. To say hey this is what I want so I will do the work for it.
With everything that has gone down in my life and whatever version of myself I have become I will always be a writer. That is a part of myself I can’t deny or not pursue. Whether I end up working somewhere else on top of it or being able to work enough to make that my life is still undecided.
I guess I just want to say that I believe that even with struggles I’ll never fully disappear or give up on this. I want to be a writer and share stories. That is my gift. Part of my purpose.
All I can do is hope that there is patience and understanding when it comes with those dealing with me.
My final subheading is about the current world crisis. It has basically blown up everything above to a level of extreme stress and wonder if I can handle it. The answer is I’m not sure. All I know is right now I am trying to survive and just keep going.
Because this pandemic has affected the system and structure of everything I deal with. From doctors and getting medication, to using online banking to pay bills, to taking classes, getting a job and to being able to leave my home at all has all exploded. Honestly, my mental health and physical health hasn’t been the only thing that has severely taken damage from all of these changes. I have in total of everything become over-worked, over-stressed, unsure, in unbearable pain, questioned myself to no end and have scrapped myself off my bed to try and just move through it all.
I couldn’t of even imagined the result of this pandemic on me and my family. On how it has changed everything. Like Taxes. Filing them was the most difficult thing ever this year. Like OMG WHY WAS FILLING MY TAXES SO DIFFICULT.
So my D&D session got cancelled tonight and I am super sad. I decided instead to just post a few quotes from my character to give you a feeling of my 1/2 Orc Druid.
“Is he a vampire? Because if so, I want to shove rats down its throat so we can have undead rat pets.”
Other Character: “But he gave off weird vibes. That’s the biggest crime.” Mine: “But I don’t like people with normal vibes…” Other Character: “Glasha, I think we need to take you to a workship on vibes.”
Mine talking to a bird: “Do you know of any other danger nearby?” Bird: “Not for me, I can fly.”
“Anything he can do I can do better. There’s a song and everything.”
Let’s get it out there: the world seems really fucked up for everyone right now. And I’m letting y’all know it probably won’t change for awhile. It’s a time where we all need to get together and be there for each other. Remind each other of all the things that make us laugh even though we are stuck home or even that it’s okay to be a bit blue for awhile.
As for me…
Well, I am almost done with my massive loads of schoolwork and am FINALLY going to return to my own new sort of schedule.
So GUESS WHAT? I almost died again! Maybe… I could of just been badly injured…. ANYWAYS… SERIOUSLY I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED.
I live in a business and bank district so even in the winter time I’m expecting to have at least some streets salted and regular winter codes of conduct followed. BUT NO.
There in a moment someone didn’t follow the established rules AND started to push snow and ice off the roof a pretty large building.
BY SOME MIRACLE, or some weird sixth sense I never knew I had, my feet stopped moving all of a sudden AND RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME a giant block of ice exploded on the ground.
The piece of ice was larger than my fat cat and if my feet hadn’t stopped all of a sudden it would of no doubt landed straight down on my head.
I’m not going to say I had an Oh My God Life is precious and I need to to suddenly be pro life and motivational speeches moment…. But I have certainly have done in a recheck.
Everything has been pretty good and happy for the last few weeks for me. It’s been like getting back on the right track and picking up speed in the right direction again. AND THEN THIS!?
I don’t know how to take it. I’m not a super religious person or a completely nonreligious person so it’s not like there’s a book that tells me how to take the event in a specific way. So I’m just going to take a moment and pick a meaning… I guess?
For me, I think I’ll take this as a grace or blessing or a reminder that even in happy times I have to keep to a schedule. This way I won’t continue my trend of getting complacent and forgetting to do the steps that let me be happy in the first place.
Mhm. That’s the reaction and lesson I’m taking from this experience.
Anyways, Can you believe I almost died again?
I’m only 23, y’all.
P.s. I couldn’t help screaming ‘Holy Shit’ in the moment~
Do you know it is common behavior for those in/out of mental health facilities to have developed habits of organization or habitual scheduling (At least those are my current words to describe it at the moment)?
I always saw it as an attempt to keep order and control within the chaos of feelings and emotions.
I don’t know if I ‘m right. I am by no means and expert or consulted one about it.
I can tell you that if this is true than I’m doing something similar to them.
I’m looking for order and control.
Since I will be off my mental health medication for an even longer amount of time I have to use the spur of clarity to form direction and purpose. In a controlled manner.
I have decided to focus on my site and the small projects I had on the side lines in order to help me stay organized until I can get back on medication. That means….
IT’S GOING TO BE AN UPDATE BANZAI FOR 2 MONTHS~
Look forward to it y’all! All those little tiny side projects and cute things that could make everything better has been pushed to the front of my agenda !
I was saving this upcoming [ #FFF ] Fan Fiction Friday for this exact day. Let us liiiive in the fantasy for one day of horror and treats. I have prepared for you all and for our crazy little Sam quiet a selection.